Confusion
by Synbou
Summary: Alternate ending to *30 Days*. While in the brig, Tom sustained a concussion during an attacked on Voyager. What if his head trauma had been more serious?


Series: Voyager  
  
Season: 5  
  
Pairing: Paris, Chakotay, All  
  
Part: 1/?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Disclaimer: Voyager and her crew does not belong to me. I just  
  
barrowed them for this fiction. Also, the psychological issues  
  
mentioned were not properly researched and should not be taken   
  
as facts.   
  
  
  
SYNOPSIS: Alternate ending to *30 Days*. While in the brig, Tom  
  
sustained a concussion during an attacked on Voyager. What if his  
  
head trauma had been more serious?  
  
Maxine, THANK YOU so much for beta-ing this story for me.  
  
CONFUSION  
  
by Isabelle S.  
  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***  
  
Confusion greeted him as he woke up.  
  
Confusion and pain, actually.  
  
He was laying on his back on a hard floor. His head was burning  
  
like hell, as if he had slammed it into a wall. A crazy thing to  
  
do, he told himself. Than again, maybe he was crazy? For as hard  
  
as he tried, he could not remember where he was nor could he  
  
remember WHO he was...  
  
With this alarming realization, his survival instinct kicked in.  
  
He managed to get himself on his feet, his eyes not even opened  
  
yet. When he did open them, a sarcastic chuckle escaped him. He  
  
leaned on the nearest wall, closing back his eyes. He sighed  
  
as part of his memories came crashing back. He was in a mess this  
  
time! At least, that's what it looked like from his particular  
  
perspective.  
  
"This has to be the quickest recovery I have ever seen!" A man  
  
said ironically, but still a bit impressed.  
  
He opened his eyes again. A bald man, a doctor judging by his  
  
blue top Starfleet uniform, was standing on the other side of the  
  
force field that was confining him to his jail cell. He flashed  
  
the doctor a cocky grin, and waited for him to do the next move.  
  
"I see that you hit your head again, Mr. Paris," Bald-Man said  
  
haughtily.  
  
So Bald-Man knew his name, his favorite hobby and had an  
  
attitude. What else?  
  
"Looks that way," he said, keeping a suspicious eye on the  
  
physician. He could not place the man at all. "And you are,  
  
Doctor?" He asked, judging good to level the plain field.  
  
"Mr. Paris..." began Bald-Man. "Tom, you don't remember who I am  
  
at all?" Bald-Man asked in a friendlier manner.  
  
Concern was showing on his face, although his patient could not  
  
find any hint of the sentiment in his eyes. Actually, Bald-Man  
  
had strange eyes he thought.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Bald-Man ordered for the force field to be lowered. He stepped  
  
into *his personal space*, aware that he was scrutinized by his  
  
patient with no hint of recognition.  
  
Bald-Man led him to the bunk. "Do you know where you are, Mr.  
  
Paris?"  
  
"In a brig," came his knowing response.  
  
"Good. You still can accurately point out the obvious." Did Bald-  
  
Man think he was funny? "You are on the starship U.S.S.  
  
Voyager," Bald-Man informed him as he picked up his tricorder  
  
from his medkit.  
  
"Voyager? Yeah, right. Doc, there's no Starfleet ship named  
  
Voyager. Believe me, I know them all, past and present."  
  
"I know that you do, Mr. Paris. However, there is one now,"  
  
Bald-Man argued, examining the readings on his tricorder "Mr.  
  
Paris, can you tell me what date it is?"  
  
"Sure. Stardate 567789.3." Bald-Man's silence suddenly worried  
  
him. "That's not it?"  
  
"Well, it is a little off," Bald-Man replied a bit too vaguely.  
  
***  
  
Commander Chakotay had been in the Captain's ready room when the  
  
Doctor had called. He had seen Kathryn Janeway lose her composure  
  
for a split second as she had been informed of a problem with Tom  
  
Paris' injury. As if sentencing Paris to 30 days in the brig had  
  
not been hard enough? As if she had not been feeling guilty  
  
already?  
  
The Doctor had requested their presence at the brig. He had been  
  
waiting for them in the hallway at their arrival.  
  
"Will he be all right, Doctor?" Janeway asked. Her voice was  
  
firm, but Chakotay could still detect a hint of concern in it.  
  
"I am not sure, Captain," answered the Doctor gravely. "There are  
  
inconsistent brain patterns in Mr. Paris' cerebral cortex. He  
  
lost a considerable part of his memory. I will need to perform a  
  
full neurological evaluation to know if there are more problems."  
  
"*Considerable part of his memory*," Janeway quoted. "How much?"  
  
"Mr. Paris seems to have lost part of the last seven years.   
  
Actually, when I asked what was the Stardate, he said it was  
  
567789.3."  
  
"The day that he has been capture by Starfleet for being a  
  
Maquis," Chakotay remembered. "He's back in a brig of a Starfleet  
  
ship almost seven years later..."  
  
"That's why I asked you here," said the Doctor. "It is hard to  
  
determine the extent of the damage. I'm hoping that you'll be  
  
able to jog his memory. He should at lest be able to remember  
  
you, Commander."  
  
"And if he doesn't?" asked the Captain.  
  
***  
  
Paris was sitting on the bunk and leveled his head up when he  
  
heard footsteps coming his way. He gazed his two new visitors and   
  
grinned has his blue eyes rested on *his* former Maquis captain,  
  
now dressed as a Starfleet Commander.  
  
"Chakotay," Paris drooled, his expression cocky and defiant.  
  
"Fancy finding you here."  
  
"If you think I'm here to bust you out, you're up for a major  
  
disappointment," Chakotay told him equally arrogant.  
  
The Commander could tell at first glance that the younger man was  
  
in pain. His shadowed blue eyes were betraying him. It was even  
  
more obvious as Paris stood up and walked up to the force field  
  
to meet up with him.  
  
"I would never be that presumptuous," Paris replied, his grin  
  
still in place. "I don't need to be reminded of who I am, do I?  
  
Who's your friend?" he asked flashing a smile to the Captain.  
  
*God, did Paris had his arrogant act well rehearsed, * Chakotay  
  
thought. He had almost forgot how smug the younger man could  
  
be. Of course, by now, everyone on Voyager knew it was mostly  
  
smoke and mirrors. However, Paris didn't know that and he didn't  
  
know Janeway either, which only confirm the EMH's hypothesis.  
  
Chakotay cast a sideways look towards his Captain they were in  
  
for a rough ride.  
  
"Tom Paris meet Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Starship Voyager,"  
  
he introduced.  
  
"Janeway...." Paris repeated obviously searching for some kind of  
  
connection. "You served under my father, didn't you?"  
  
"On the Al-Batani," Janeway confirmed neutrally. "I was his  
  
science officer during the Arias Expedition."  
  
"You must be good," Paris told her on an equally neutral tone.  
  
"My  
  
father only accepts the best and the brightest."  
  
It was common knowledge that there were ill feelings between Tom  
  
and his father. Even five years later, his friends never really  
  
knew how deep those feelings ran.  
  
Paris allowed himself weary sighed before saying: "Ah well,  
  
anyone who comes in good faith, Captain, *Commander*, is  
  
welcome."  
  
"What did you say?" Chakotay asked out of surprise. He held up  
  
a hand to silence Paris before going on. "You know Darrien?"  
  
Paris snorted. "Oh Chakotay, if you only knew..." He brought his  
  
left hand to the side of his head. He looked away.  
  
"We're getting you to sickbay," Janeway stated.  
  
"No!" Paris said hastily. He was pensive for a minute. "Hell,  
  
what do I have to lose anyway?" He mumbled to himself. He turned  
  
back his blue eyes on Chakotay. They were so ghastly, Chakotay  
  
felt a shiver going up his spine. Janeway seemed mesmerized  
  
herself by this look they had never seen before.  
  
"Chakotay," Paris said just above a whisper, still forcefully. "I  
  
know you don't trust me and I can't blame you for that. But, you  
  
have to *listen* to me."  
  
Chakotay felt compelled to give the younger man his attention.  
  
"Commander, you had me fooled. You have a lot of people fooled on  
  
all sides. That's good. You're in an even better position than I  
  
thought to help the people of Javary. Chakotay, You *have to* do  
  
something!"  
  
"Tom..." Chakotay tried to interrupt.  
  
"Let me finish! You have to prevent the Maquis from putting one  
  
of their base on Javary. They are barely equip to defend  
  
themselves as it is. If the Maquis put a base there, it'll put  
  
oil on the fire! They'll become even more vulnerable to a  
  
Cardassian attacks and the Federation is already there ready to  
  
retaliate. As a Starfleet officer and the Captain of a Maquis  
  
cell you can *do* something. You're a man of honour, who cares  
  
for the well being of others. I know you can. At least, you can  
  
try. Captain Janeway, you have to let him do this. Innocent lives  
  
are at stake here!"  
  
Neither Kathryn Janeway or Chakotay had been expecting Tom Paris  
  
to talk with so much faith in the Commander. It had left him  
  
completely exhausted. Chakotay's heart sank. If only this meeting  
  
had happened seven years ago...  
  
"Tom, I would like to do something, but I can't. It's too late."  
  
"Chakotay, it's not too late! You can do something if you don't  
  
compromise your position!" Paris insisted a bit angry. "But, if  
  
you keep on boarding Federation starships and wearing that  
  
uniform you certainly will!"  
  
Paris sighed tiredly. His hand searched for something to hold on  
  
to and only find the force field. He jerked back in surprised.  
  
With urgency, Chakotay lowered the force field and rushed to  
  
Paris' side just in time to prevent his head from hitting the  
  
deck.  
  
***  
  
"Doctor," Janeway pressed on as the physician led the Captain,  
  
and the Commander to his office.  
  
"I healed most of the damage to his temporal lobe and hypocampal  
  
areas of his brain," the Doctor reported. "As for what Mr. Paris  
  
will remember, one he wakes up, remains to be seen."  
  
"When do you expected him to wake up?" Janeway inquired.  
  
"We could wake him now, but I'd prefer for him to do so  
  
naturally. His brain could use the time to heal from the obvious  
  
trauma."  
  
"All right, Doctor," Janeway granted. She turned to Chakotay and  
  
quietly said; "The conversation in the brig stays between you and  
  
I. The last thing I want is to rehash old conflicts."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about Ayala, he knows not to say anything. I'll  
  
have a word with him just in case. As for rehashing old  
  
conflicts " quoted Chakotay, as the two senior officers made  
  
their way out of the Doctor's office. "I was thinking more along  
  
the lines of *not adding more fuel to the fire."  
  
"Maquis versus Starfleet again..." Janeway sighed.  
  
"A lot of people agreed with what Tom tried to do to save that  
  
ocean," Chakotay pointed out. "I heard some crew members say that  
  
Tom might have been Maquis after all, and that coming from the  
  
least expected people."  
  
"*When Starfleet chicken's out, your left with the Maquis way*"  
  
Janeway cited. "Well the Maquis way didn't work, did it?" she  
  
added smugly.  
  
"No, it didn't," Chakotay agreed. "But, it never was about the  
  
Maquis ways versus Starfleet's in the first place. Tom would  
  
never see that far. It wasn't then, it wasn't two week ago." He  
  
allowed himself a soft chuckle. "The day we'll figure out Tom  
  
Paris, we'll solve one of the greatest mystery of the universe!"  
  
"Somehow, I doubt that we ever will," Janeway said more grimly.  
  
"He'll manage to get himself kill way before we can."  
  
***  
  
Paris had awakened in a Federation sickbay. It had taken him only  
  
a few seconds to realized that he was on a Starfleet starship: a  
  
vessel cruising through space at warp six.  
  
A bald doctor that seemed vaguely familiar had greeted him. It  
  
had been obvious by the physician's interaction that he knew who  
  
Paris was. Unfortunately, the odds were not even. If Paris had  
  
been able to remember this particular character, maybe he   
  
would've known if the physician was only annoyed at him, or if it  
  
was a general trait.  
  
When the doctor had informed him that the Captain had asked to  
  
talk with him as soon as he was conscious, Paris had requested a  
  
set of clothes. It was not a good policy to meet a starship  
  
captain in one's pajamas, even if it was the middle of the night.  
  
At last, the door of Sickbay opened. He stared despite himself at  
  
the woman and the man who were cautiously making their way  
  
towards him. She was defiantly in charge.  
  
"Captain Janeway," Paris acknowledged as recognition drew upon  
  
him. "Chakotay, it's good to see you again."  
  
"Tom, you remember us," Janeway said. She seemed relieved.  
  
Why was she calling him Tom?  
  
"Somewhat," he replied. He looked around. "Why don't we use the  
  
Doctor's office. It would be more private. That is, if you don't  
  
mind, Doctor."  
  
"That's kind of you to ask, Mr. Paris," the EMH replied. "I don't  
  
mind at all. Go right ahead."  
  
Paris led the way towards the CMO's office. The perplexed glance  
  
that Janeway exchanged with the commander was not lost on him.   
  
With a hand gesture, he invited the Captain to take a seat in  
  
front of the Doctor's deck.  
  
"So Chakotay, you are a Starfleet officer after all," he said as  
  
he sat behind the desk.  
  
"I am now," the Commander simply stated. "Paris, what's the last  
  
thing you remember?"  
  
The big Indian was not losing time with him, was he?  
  
"I was in a brig" he said eventually. "Actually, I could see that  
  
happening. Why was I in the brig for, this time?"  
  
Again, sideways looks were shared among the Captain, the  
  
Commander and the Doctor.  
  
Janeway made eye contact with him. "You disobeyed a direct  
  
order," she finally told him.  
  
"I could see that happening, too" Paris considered. "What was I  
  
trying to do?"  
  
"To make a long story short: To Save a planet made of water from  
  
being destructed by its inhabitants technology," she explained.  
  
She was purposefully evasive.  
  
"A planet made of water?" he asked, his voice neutral. He was  
  
maintaining eye contact with all them at all times.  
  
"Yes, a giant ocean," she added.  
  
"Now, there is no such thing, is there? " he challenged. Did she  
  
think he was stupid?  
  
"Maybe not in the Alpha Quadrant, Mr. Paris," she rose to his  
  
challenge.  
  
"You called me Tom earlier," he pointed out. To his satisfaction,  
  
he saw a faint breach trough her tough exterior. It had been  
  
brief. Had he not be looking attentively, he wouldn't have seen  
  
it. He didn't need an answer from her to his statement, so he  
  
continued with a more troubling issue. "Are you suggesting that  
  
we aren't in the Alpha Quadrant, Captain?"  
  
"We are not, Mr. Paris." She was getting dangerously annoyed  
  
with him. He could have this effect on a lot of people. "We're in  
  
the Delta Quadrant."  
  
"The Delta Quadrant, really?" He shook his head. "Captain, I'm  
  
starting to be disappointed. I thought that you would come up  
  
with a more credible story than this. Don't you think that you  
  
are pushing the envelop a little?"  
  
"Now, Mr. Paris, I am starting to be disappointed too. I'm  
  
willing to answer your questions, but I will not tolerate any  
  
more insubordination."  
  
"For insubordination to occur, I would need to be one of your  
  
subordinates."  
  
"Well, I'm afraid you are one of my subordinates," Janeway said  
  
icily.  
  
"No, no, no. I can see a lot of things happening, but me coming  
  
back to Starfleet? *That*, I cannot see. Sorry"  
  
"Well then, I have a surprise for you *Ensign*," she said, her  
  
tone mirroring his impudence. "Actually, two weeks ago, you had  
  
the rank of lieutenant. You were demoted for disobeying a direct  
  
order."  
  
"You demoted me *and* put me in the brig for that? Impressive,.  
  
You must have been pissed as hell."  
  
"Enough!" Chakotay's voice broke into their 'argument. "Paris, I  
  
don't know what you think you are going to accomplish, but I  
  
suggest you stop now before you end up back in the brig until we  
  
get home."  
  
Paris sighed and found himself looking away a bit shameful. "I'm  
  
sorry," he apologized without offering any explanation. Truth  
  
be told, he did not know what to say now.  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the room as he kept staring at  
  
them. He felt his adrenaline crash and an overwhelming feeling of  
  
loss filling up the gap. He brought a hand to his left temple. A  
  
headache was starting to form.  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
"Mr. Paris, are you all right?" the Doctor was inquiring  
  
He opened his eyes.  
  
"I will be," Paris said, his voice more confident than he felt.  
  
"Mr. Paris?" Janeway began, continuing cautiously only once  
  
assured that she had his attention. She was confused, maybe even  
  
worried. He could see it in her gray eyes. Though, he was not  
  
sure to why. "Tom, if you are wondering if this is real. I assure  
  
you it is."  
  
*Why* was she calling him Tom?  
  
"Captain," he began, trying to shake away his mental numbness.   
  
"I believe you. I even believe you when you say that we are in  
  
the Delta Quadrant. However, I am no less confused."  
  
"What is the last thing you remember?" Chakotay asked him again.  
  
"I'm not sure," he replied. He wasn't sure he even wanted to  
  
recall. However, it seems it was important for the Commander  
  
that he did. "You and I. We were talking. I don't remember about  
  
what. Although, if I had known that you were still a Starfleet  
  
officer..."  
  
"I was not at the time. Like you, Captain Janeway give me a  
  
commission when we arrived in the Delta Quadrant. She needed a  
  
First Officer and a Chief Pilot."  
  
"And a Chief Engineer," Paris recalled vaguely.  
  
"Yes, do you remember who the Chief Engineer is?" Chakotay  
  
sounded encouraged.  
  
Paris racked his brain for an answer. Who could he associate  
  
with the present company or with a starship?  
  
"Harry." It was the first name that came to mind. "No, Harry is  
  
the musician. Harry... Is there a Harry onboard?"  
  
"Yes, Harry Kim. He is a musician too," Chakotay confirmed.   
  
"However, he isn't the Chief Engineer."  
  
Paris did not care about who the Chief Engineer anymore. Harry  
  
was important to him at the moment. If he could only remember  
  
why... "We played music together," he finally remembered.  
  
"*You* played music?" asked the Doctor incredulously.  
  
"Something wrong with that?" Paris asked defensively.  
  
"No. It would be your style not to share this talent with the  
  
rest of the crew," the Doctor went on. "However, I am surprised  
  
that Ensign Kim kept your secret."  
  
"Well, Harry is Tom best friend," Chakotay pointed out.  
  
"Harry is my best friend?" Paris asked.  
  
"Yes, him and B'Elanna," Chakotay supplemented.  
  
"B'Elanna. The Chief Engineer. Eric's friend."  
  
"Eric?" asked Chakotay. There was only one Eric onboard and  
  
Chakotay was not aware that he and B'Elanna were friends.  
  
"Never mind," Paris said. "Say, why do you all keep on calling me  
  
Tom?"  
  
***  
  
"Chakotay, wait a sec," the commander heard the chief engineer's  
  
called after him. He stopped letting her catch up with him.  
  
"Chakotay, what's wrong with Tom? I was told that he had been  
  
taken to sickbay. They didn't let me see him. Is he all right?"  
  
"He's going to be fine, B'Elanna," he assured her, keeping his  
  
worries to himself. "Tom hit his head during the attack. He's  
  
suffering from a concussion."  
  
"Why am I not surprised," she said, shaking her head. She was  
  
obviously relieved.  
  
"He's a bit confused, so the doctor is keeping him in Sickbay  
  
for the time being. As for why you haven't been allowed to see  
  
him, he's still serving his sentence."  
  
"This is ridiculous..."  
  
"B'Elanna, I don't want to hear it." She gave him an angry glare  
  
before turning on her heels. "B'Elanna." She faced him again.  
  
"You never told me that you had a friend named Eric."  
  
"Eric? Who told you I had a friend named Eric?"  
  
"Tom did. He said you were Eric's friend."  
  
"What else did he say?" He could tell she was getting edgy.  
  
"Not much, he mentioned playing music with Harry."  
  
"Tom? Our Tom? Playing music? Are you sure?" She was making the  
  
idea sounded ludicrous, but she was hiding something. He was sure  
  
of it. B'Elanna could not hide anything from him.   
  
"That what he said." Chakotay affirmed.  
  
"Tom loves music, but he's no musician. He must be more confused  
  
than you think."  
  
"Maybe," he granted before heading his own way.  
  
If Tom was confused, he sure was not the only one. Chakotay was  
  
bemused himself by the pilot's attitude. Or more so, the sudden  
  
changes of attitudes Tom had displayed since his incident in the  
  
brig. Tom had always been hard to figure out. They all agreed to  
  
that. He was rarely revealing the true nature of his feelings.   
  
He was unpredictable. He could be polite, charming, and caring  
  
one moment, then sarcastic, arrogant, and untrustworthy the next.  
  
He was very professional, yet some times his lack of moral ethic  
  
was appalling. He loved to fly, to have an active social life, to  
  
play pool, read, and listening to music. He was very loyal to his  
  
friends, to Voyager, and her crew. Still, there were days it  
  
seems he could not care less about what could happen to them or  
  
to himself.  
  
So, was Tom just confused because of the apparent gaps in his  
  
memory. Not remembering his first name, but able to remember his  
  
last? *That* perplexed Chakotay. Or, was there more to the  
  
pilot's sudden change of personality?   
  
***  
  
Chakotay was back in the Captain's ready room first thing in the  
  
morning. The night had been short for both of them, their sleep  
  
interrupted by their meeting with Tom Paris.  
  
"Coffee?" Janeway offered.  
  
"Definitely." He watched her pour the dark liquid into a small  
  
china cup. Thank God for refills, he thought. "You haven't been  
  
able to go back to sleep either, have you?"  
  
She raised a hand in defeat. "I'm not sure what to make of this  
  
situation, Chakotay. I don't know what to think about Tom or how  
  
to handle the rest of his sentence."  
  
"I doubt that returning him to the brig will bring him back to  
  
the present. You could, however, confine him to quarters."  
  
"Sounds like the most reasonable thing to do under the  
  
circumstances," she agreed.  
  
She leaned back, rested her head against the couch and closed her  
  
eyes. Chakotay give her a moment of rest before bringing up  
  
another sensitive subject.  
  
"Did you have a chance to go over the event on Javary?"  
  
She sighed as a sad expression crept upon her face. "I have. The  
  
Maquis did put a base there. As Tom predicted, the Federation was  
  
there to retaliate."  
  
"Just a handful survived," Chakotay allowed himself to remember.  
  
"Darren was not one of them," he added sadly.  
  
"I'm sorry." They observed a moment of silence. "Where does Tom  
  
fit into this picture? Did he make a similar plea to someone else  
  
when he was captured?"  
  
"I wish I knew. I was hoping to learn more last night.... He was  
  
so confused himself, he didn't even remember his first name."  
  
"He sure had his old arrogant attitude well in place," Janeway  
  
recalled.  
  
"Kathryn, the attitude is just an act. You were the first one to  
  
point it out."  
  
"I know." Again, she raised a hand admitting defeat. "I could've  
  
smacked him a few times."  
  
"I noticed. So did he," Chakotay grinned. He found it funny now,  
  
but he sure hadn't the night before. His tone more serious again,  
  
he went on. "Kathryn, I took the liberty to look up Tom's  
  
psychiatric profile."  
  
Intrigued, she looked at him. "Why?"  
  
"Tom sudden change of attitude caught my attention. I remembered  
  
the subject being mentioned in his file. So, I went back to it.  
  
When Tom entered the Academy, he was profiled as having a  
  
somewhat unstable personality.) It was more defined as wide  
  
ranges in character traits. After Caldik Prime, a much more  
  
profound analysis was done. He passed some time under close  
  
psychiatric supervision until being cashiered from Starfleet -  
  
his terms - and being let loose."  
  
"Go on." Janeway sat back straighter.  
  
"The psychiatric profile released by Auckland mirror the one from  
  
the Academy. However, it clearly states that he has an unstable  
  
personality."  
  
"He has to a minimum level," she agreed.  
  
"So, you are aware of this," Chakotay stated, making sure he  
  
didn't sound accusatory.  
  
"Chakotay, when I considered taking Tom along on this mission, I  
  
had to be sure he was no security threat. I wasn't going to let  
  
a basket case board my ship either. Yes, he can be unpredictable,  
  
but I never had any reason to doubt his sanity. Even what he did  
  
two weeks ago was based on sound principles. Tom can be very  
  
passionate about certain things. I don't think what he did was  
  
out of character. I only wish I could have backed him up, but I  
  
couldn't reinforce his methods nor his insubordination."  
  
"What Tom did two weeks ago might have been in character - at  
  
least what it has been in the last few years," Chakotay granted.  
  
"But Tom wasn't in character last night. The man we talked to in  
  
the brig was *not* the one we talked to in sickbay. Even then,  
  
there were something in his eyes that kept changing. A flicker I  
  
hadn't seen since his time in the Maquis."  
  
"His time in the Maquis was the last thing he remembered,"  
  
Janeway pointed out.  
  
Chakotay shook his head. "It goes deeper that."  
  
Perplexed, Janeway looked at him.  
  
"Kathryn, there's some entries in Tom's file that I can't access.  
  
I don't have the medical clearance. I think there's more on Tom's  
  
changes of attitudes in those entries. I would like your  
  
authorization to open them."  
  
Janeway gave the issue some consideration. "Chakotay, we all have  
  
changes in attitudes," she began eventually. "Tom lost part of  
  
his memory. He's in a strange environment. He's not too sure if  
  
he should believe what he sees and what he's told. I think he's just  
  
trying to adapt to the situation as best he can. He is no threat  
  
to the ship, or himself. I don't see any reason to invade his  
  
privacy."  
  
Chakotay sighed. "Maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there,"  
  
he admitted. "Still, what if there is a bigger problem?"  
  
"We'll have to deal with it *if* it arises." She poured herself  
  
some more coffee. "It's clear at the moment that Tom will need  
  
help in order to readjust and hopefully regain his memories.  
  
You're more than welcome to offer your services as ship's  
  
counselor."  
  
Chakotay nodded. "Maybe I'll finally understand Tom Paris."  
  
Janeway smirked. "Good luck."  
  
***  
  
Luck hadn't been with him when Chakotay had visited Tom in  
  
Sickbay. The young man had been sound asleep, sedated by a mild  
  
painkiller.  
  
"He woke up two hours ago. He was not very communicative. All he  
  
said was that he had a headache," the doctor explained.  
  
"Not very communicative? How was he exactly?"  
  
"He was laying still. His eyes were opened, fixing the ceiling.  
  
He never made eye contact with me. He did not even acknowledge me  
  
at first. I had to repeat questions a few times before he finally  
  
told me about the headache. Actually, it sounded more like a  
  
confession. I offered him a painkiller. He simply nodded."  
  
"Do you think he is behaving strangely?"  
  
The doctor snorted. "Commander, Mr. Paris is always behaving  
  
strangely."  
  
Chakotay informed the EMH that he would be acting as counselor  
  
for the Lieutenant. He requested to be informed the moment the  
  
younger man was awake. He stopped by his office to grab a few  
  
reports, then made his way to the Mess Hall for an early lunch.  
  
He didn't notice Harry Kim and B'Elanna Torres enter the room  
  
and sit at a table in the corner. He probably wouldn't have  
  
realized they were there, expect they were talking about a  
  
certain pilot. He carefully eavesdropped, knowing how unethical  
  
it was.  
  
"Not only did he mention Eric, but he also told them that he   
  
played music with you."  
  
"Only Emanuel would know that," Harry pointed out. "I don't think  
  
Evan ever knew, or cared."  
  
What were they talking about?  
  
"I wished Kes was still here. She would know if Tom was having a  
  
relapse or not," Harry went on. "Maybe we should talk to Tuvok.  
  
What do you think?"  
  
"I'm not sure, Harry."  
  
Chakotay swiftly got up and were at their table in three strides.  
  
He sat down with no invitation.  
  
"Tom is having a relapse," he stated. Hiding his question in his  
  
tone.  
  
Harry and B'Elanna looked at him shocked.  
  
"Oh God, is he really?" Harry asked, alarmed.  
  
"You tell me, Ensign. Of what he is relapsing?"  
  
B'Elanna quickly understood that he had tricked them in revealing  
  
more than they should. "You don't really know, do you, Chakotay?"  
  
"No, but I'm beginning to get a vague idea. Follow me," he  
  
ordered.  
  
"Sir?" wondered Harry.  
  
Chakotay silenced him with a hand gesture. They made their way  
  
to his office. There, he took place behind his desk, assuming a  
  
position of authority. If he couldn't intimidate B'Elanna, he was  
  
sure he still had an effect on Mr. Kim.  
  
"Of what could Tom be relapsing?"  
  
Both junior officers looked at each other again, clearly deciding  
  
who would reply.  
  
"Sir, you're putting us in a difficult situation," Kim began.  
  
"I understand that Tom is your friend and that we are brushing up  
  
a personal matter. However at this point, we all suspect that  
  
there might be a problem, don't we?"  
  
"Chakotay." B'Elanna held his gaze. "Why not tell us what's going  
  
on?"  
  
"Fair enough," he agreed. "Yesterday during the attack, Tom hit  
  
his head and suffered from a concussion. He lost consciousness  
  
during a period of time. When he woke up, the Doctor had already  
  
arrived to treat his injury. However, Tom did not recognize him.  
  
It turned out that Tom didn't even remember the last seven years.  
  
He believed he was back on the ship that had captured him before  
  
he was sent to Auckland."  
  
"So he knew who he was," Kim stated.  
  
"We think so," the Commander replied. "He recognized me, but not  
  
the Captain. That made sense since he had not met her yet."  
  
"Is that when he talked about Eric?" wondered B'Elanna.  
  
"No, that came later. Tom lost consciousness again. We talked to  
  
him later that night in Sickbay. He remembered the Captain and  
  
myself, but not quite what we had discussed previously. The way  
  
he talked and the way he acted were totally different than in the  
  
brig, as if he was a different person himself."  
  
"He probably was," Kim revealed.  
  
"Harry!" B'Elanna hissed between her teeth to silence him. "What  
  
else happened?"  
  
"Even as we talked, his attitude changed. We told him that, just  
  
like the Chief Engineer and myself, he had been given a field of  
  
commission when we arrived in the Delta Quadrant. We asked him if  
  
he recalled who the Chief Engineer was. He eventually came up  
  
with your name, Ensign. He then refuted the fact that you were  
  
the Chief Engineer, but he recalled playing music with you. He  
  
also remembered at one point that the Chief Engineer was Eric's  
  
friend. Now," he said, meeting B'Elanna's dark eyes again. "You  
  
still haven't told me, who is Eric?"  
  
B'Elanna avoided his question. "Did he say anything else?"  
  
"No, his headache returned," he said, quickly causing the  
  
exchange of furtive glances between Harry and B'Elanna. He had  
  
just said something important, he realized. "The headaches. I  
  
read in his file that he was prone to them." He had also read in  
  
Paris' file that he had sudden changes in personality. "Does Tom  
  
have a headache when he has a change of personality?"  
  
Kim and Torres did not need to utter a word. Their tense body  
  
language had answered for them.  
  
"Chakotay, maybe you should talk to Tuvok," Torres offered.  
  
"I'm talking to *you*," he replied. He could always have a chat  
  
with Tuvok later. "Who's Eric, B'Elanna?"  
  
Harry nodded to her in encouragement.  
  
"Eric is Tom," she confessed above a whisper. "He's one of Tom's  
  
personalities."  
  
Spirits, Tom had in fact more than changes in attitude. Tom had  
  
multiple personalities.  
  
"How many?" he forced himself to ask.  
  
"Five or six that we know," Harry answered. "There could be more.  
  
If Kes had been here, she could have told you. She always knew  
  
which one was in control."  
  
"Why did you suggest that I talked to Tuvok?"  
  
"Tuvok found out when he mind-melded with Tom," Harry explained.  
  
"When Tom was accused of murder, and sentenced to relive the  
  
crime every fourteen hours," Chakotay remembered. "That sure  
  
would screw you up. Why didn't Tuvok say anything, then?"  
  
"As long as Tom was no threat to the ship, he had no reason to,"  
  
Harry went on. "Besides, he and Kes were there to help him. I  
  
guess most people don't notice because it's always the same  
  
personalities we're dealing with. Emanuel, Eric, Etienne, Ellie.  
  
We haven't even seen Evan in a long time."  
  
Emanuel, Eric, Etienne, Ellie, Evan... *Say, why do you all keep  
  
on calling me Tom?* Paris' voice echoed in Chakotay's head. Tom  
  
was all of them and could be none of them at the same time. They  
  
had all been created to protect him - to protect what he had once  
  
been his first personality: Tomas Eugene Paris.  
  
Tomas *Eugene* Paris ...  
  
Chakotay felt growing sorrow in the pit of his stomach. "What  
  
about Eugene?" he asked with a sense of dread.  
  
Only sad expressions answered him.  
  
***  
  
"Herbal tea, hot," Chakotay ordered the computer.  
  
B'Elanna and Harry had just left his office. Chakotay's heart  
  
went to them. He had used them to gain the information he wanted  
  
- the information he needed to help Tom. It didn't take away  
  
the fact that he had forced B'Elanna and Harry to betray their  
  
best friend, but in this case, the end justified the means. Tom  
  
needed all the help he could get.  
  
Chakotay's heart also went to Tom. What could have possibly  
  
happened for him to develop so many personalities? How come he  
  
never had noticed before?  
  
He did not have the time to pounder the issue as his train of  
  
thoughts was interrupted by the EMH.  
  
"Sickbay to Commander Chakotay."  
  
"Yes, Doctor. Is Lieutenant Paris awake yet?" he immediately  
  
asked.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Paris is more than awake. He is apparently up and  
  
about. It seems he skipped out of Sickbay right under my noise,  
  
again."  
  
Chakotay sighed. "Alright, Doctor. I will take care of it.  
  
Chakotay out." Things were never easy when it came to Tom Paris.  
  
Did he really expected that this would change, especially now?  
  
He hit his combadge. "Chakotay to Tuvok."  
  
"Tuvok here, Commander,"  
  
"It's seems that Lieutenant Paris skipped out of Sickbay without  
  
the Doctor's knowledge. We need to track him down."  
  
"This will not be necessary, Commander. Mr. Paris is actually  
  
with me at the moment."  
  
Chakotay's brows went up with surprise. "Is he?"  
  
"Mr. Paris came to me a few minutes ago," Tuvok confirmed. "Mr.  
  
Paris," the Vulcan addressed the younger man. "Did you 'skipped'  
  
out of Sickbay without the Doctor's knowledge?"  
  
Chakotay heard something being mumbled in the background.  
  
"Hum... That's what I thought," Tuvok went on. "Commander, Mr.  
  
Paris came to me with personal issues. He asked me to act as his  
  
counselor some time ago. I shall honour his request. I will  
  
inform you and the Captain shortly of my recommendations  
  
regarding Lieutenant Paris's sentence continuation."  
  
"All right, Tuvok," Chakotay found himself saying. It was the  
  
only professional thing to do. He was in no position to debate  
  
the issue. "I'll inform the Doctor. Chakotay out."  
  
As the link closed, Chakotay felt anger rise into his chest  
  
despite himself. He was losing control of the situation. He was  
  
'losing' Tom. Chakotay forced himself to put things in  
  
perspective. Tuvok had known about Tom's condition for years.  
  
He mostly likely had been there for Tom in the past, especially  
  
since Kes had left the ship. It was also an undeniable fact that  
  
Tuvok was capable of helping Tom keeps his personalities in check  
  
and ensure that the Lieutenant was fit for duty. The Vulcan was  
  
probably doing just that at the very moment.  
  
Chakotay felt his irritation rise again as he thought of what was  
  
probably going to happen next. Tuvok would fix Tom up, most  
  
likely send him back to the brig. It would be the end of it.  
  
It would be unethical to brig back the subject and violating  
  
Tom's privacy.  
  
Bottom line, he would never know what was really going on into  
  
Tom Paris's head. Did he really want to know? Sure, he did. If  
  
only to treat Tom better. That, however, he could already do it,  
  
couldn't he?  
  
***  
  
End of Part .   
  
Thanks for reading this little piece.   
  
Feedback is always very appreciated.   
  
BIG THANKS to Maxine and Louise.  
  
Isabelle S.   
  
synbou@hotmail.com   
  
Copyrights @ May 2003. 


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